The Worth of A Kiss
by writergirl75
Summary: A collection of unrelated one-shots featuring Oliver and Felicity "first kiss" scenarios - latest update "Out of His Mind"
1. Chapter 1

**Updated A/N: So originally I was just going to post this first one-shot, but I got such lovely feedback that I decided to start adding the other "first kiss" scenarios I came up with and this became a little collection.**

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**The Worth of a Kiss**

**Arrow Christmas Ficlet**

In the end, really, it was all Thea's fault.

When Oliver had asked his sister about holding the Queen Consolidated Holiday Party at Verdant his sister had easily agreed, with one condition. She wanted to dovetail the event with a fundraiser for a teen center in the Glades.

In Felicity's opinion, Thea's idea for that fundraiser was as diabolical as it was simple.

When they arrived at the club they discovered that Thea had hung what felt like about a thousand sprigs of mistletoe across the ceiling, and any time she caught a couple under it she (and inevitably the crowd around them) demanded a kiss. The gentleman in question then had to donate $20 or the "value of the kiss" to Thea's charity. She called it "Merry Kiss-Mas."

Seriously, no guy could refuse without looking like a major jerk, and none of the donations had been less than fifty bucks. Thea had stopped the pounding holiday music at one point to declare that a man had just donated $500 after kissing his wife - "A hundred dollars for every year of happiness." Felicity had to admit, that one had made her a little misty.

She had done her very best to avoid both the mistletoe and most of the party, thinking how odd it was to see the club filled with office workers instead of socialites. Under normal circumstances, the chance to drink the Queen's expensive champagne and eat the oddly beautiful little food might have been fun. However, after their particularly grueling week in Arrow-land the flashing red and green lights and oddly techno holiday carols were driving her a little crazy.

She saw Oliver, with a fake smile barely hiding his own exhaustion, stuck in a conversation with the head of accounting.

"Excuse me," she said, in her best official assistant voice. "I need to speak with Mr. Queen for a moment."

"Thanks for the save," he said in her ear as she pulled him away. "I stopped listening five minutes ago."

"No problem," she said, speaking loudly to be heard over the music. "Do you think anyone would notice if we just snuck out of this thing?"

He gave her a flat smile. "Not feeling the holiday spirit? he asked.

"I'm just so tired," she said, unable to even pretend to smile. She usually did her best to hide her fatigue from Oliver and Digg. What they did was difficult. There was no point in whining about it.

A concerned look flashed across his face briefly. "Of course. Why don't you head home?" Then he paused, his frown deepening. "Wait, how are you getting home?"

"Cab," she said quickly. Until that moment she'd forgotten they'd come straight from the office with Digg. However, there were usually cabs around Verdant, so she wasn't too worried.

He nodded. "I'll walk you out."

"You don't…" she protested.

He ignored her, grabbing her elbow and steering her toward the door. She was a little distracted by the feel of his fingers on her skin, and the way he pressed close to her as they made their way through the crowd.

Then, five feet from the door Thea pounced on them. "Merry Kiss-Mas!" she declared, pointing to the ceiling.

Felicity felt Oliver go completely still as she looked up. She was positive Thea had moved this particular bit of annoying foliage at some point during the evening, because Felicity hadn't remembered there being one right in front of the door. She also couldn't believe that Mister-Razor-Sharp-Instincts-Queen would have missed it so easily either.

"Thea," Oliver said, putting on his stern face. "I'm her boss, so I'm not sure it's appropriate to…"

"Oh hell, Ollie." Thea said, her face irritated. "Just kiss the girl and donate some money. It's not that complicated."

Several people around them were looking their way, and one brave, and mostly likely inebriated person said. "Come on, Mr. Queen." Felicity wondered if that guy would have a job on Monday.

Felicity looked at Oliver. He clenched his teeth and shook his head as if in disbelief. Then he said, "Fine." It sounded like the word had been ground out of him.

Before Felicity could decide how she felt about his attitude, he turned around to face her, his hand curling around her bare upper arm. In a voice so quiet she figured only she could hear he said. "Is this…?"

Feeling a bit deer-in-headlights, Felicity managed to nod, and his lips came down on hers. It was brief, only the barest moment of pressure, but she felt a jolt of heat shoot through her. She was acutely aware of the way his fingers tightened gently on her arm, his thumb brushing across her skin even as he pulled back and looked at his sister.

"Happy?" he asked Thea with a pasted-on smile.

Thea grinned and nodded, pulling a pad of paper and a pen out of the pocket of her spangled red skinny jeans. "And how much will you be donating, Mr. Queen?"

"Five thousand dollars," he said his voice carefully nonchalant.

Thea laughed as Felicity gasped. Looking back down at Felicity, Oliver winked. "It's for a good cause," he said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. The crowd around them let out an appreciative cheer.

Then he turned back to Thea. "Can I finish walking her out now?"

"Be my guest," Thea said, still sounding amused.

As Felicity and Oliver made their way out of the noisy club and on to the cold and quiet street, the silence that fell was an uneasy one. Oliver's smile had disappeared and as he raised his arm to hail an empty cab Felicity tried to find something to say. Of course with her that inevitably led to having too much to say. "You don't have to worry about this, Oliver. I know that was just for your sister's benefit and I know that you have lots of money so it doesn't really mean that much, though I'm not saying five-thousand dollars isn't…"

"Felicity," Oliver said sounding slightly strangled. She stopped talking. He opened the door of the cab, and she climbed inside, feeling more awkward than ever.

However, when she looked up to tell him good night, she saw that he had leaned over the open door and was looking down at her. His eyebrows were lowered and he looked upset, but his voice was soft. "I hope you know you're worth a lot more than that to me." Before she could respond he stepped back and closed the door.

In a daze Felicity gave her address to the cab driver, feeling the warmth of the kiss, and his words, all the way home.

**A/N: This came out of a writing exercise I in which I was trying to think of a number of possible situations that might lead to a first kiss between the characters in a story I was working on. Naturally, my brain then drifted to Oliver and Felicity and for the fun of it I wrote several "first kiss" scenarios for them as well. This was the most complete and canon compliant of the bunch, so I decided to share. Merry Christmas! **


	2. Last Wish?

**A/N: Some people asked for a follow-up to the previous one-shot, which I don't currently have a plan for. What I do have is a few of the other "first kiss" scenarios I wrote, so I thought I'd share another one. This one's a short, angsty piece from Oliver's point-of-view. Maybe I'll keep working on them until we know what the real first kiss looks like? (Though I'm not in a hurry for it, there had better be one!) **

**Last Wish? **

She had put herself between a bullet and a ten-year-old kid. It should have been some comfort to him that it wasn't some "mission" of his, just a wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time scenario with two spree shooting gunmen. However, as he scooped her into his arms and saw the blood spreading across her flower print blouse it was no comfort at all. He'd made it inside before the police had even arrived, had taken out both shooters without killing them. They'd gotten off only a single shot – but sometimes one shot was all it took.

"Am I going to die?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"No, this is nothing," he said. He tried his best to make his voice sound confident and reassuring, in spite of the hurricane going on inside him.

A look of fear flashed through her eyes. "You still suck at lying."

"Digg's called for help," he said. "You're going to be okay."

He pushed through a door into the cold night air and laid her gently on the ground. He looked around desperately for something – anything to stop the bleeding, before pulling off his hood, and then his own shirt, wadding it up and pressing it against the wound on her side.

She smiled weakly. "Masked…shirtless. I don't mind this being the last thing I see."

He let out a strangled chuckle. Leave it to Felicity to make him smile even when she was bleeding all over. "Hey," he said firmly. "You're going to be fine."

She let out a shuddering breath. "Just in case…would you do something for me?"

"Anything," he said, putting his other hand to her face. Damned gloves.

"Kiss me?" she whispered. "I know you don't feel …"

He leaned down and put his mouth to hers, cutting off her words, relieved to feel her warm lips and breath against his skin. Whatever lines he'd drawn, if there was any chance at all this was…he cut the thought off, pulling back to look into her eyes

"If I'd known getting shot was what it took…" she said, smiling softly. Then her eyes closed.

"Felicity!" he said, and this time he was unable to hide his panic. His face was still only a breath from hers as her eyes fluttered open. He did his best to smile. "If you want another one of those you're going to have to live."

"Deal," she said, but her eyes drifted shut.

To his utter relief he heard sirens behind him. And in spite of the risk of getting caught he stayed until the paramedics were there, lifting her onto a stretcher.

Two days later, when she woke up in the hospital, Oliver kept up his end of the bargain.


	3. Locked in a Trunk

A/N: This piece is straying into a lighter, slightly less canon-oriented territory than the other two pieces, but hopefully still in character. Oh, and I wrote it carefully enough that it's still K+, but it gets closer to T rated than the other two kiss-fics have.

**Locked in a Trunk**

When Vladimir Stolov pointed a gun at them and ordered them into the trunk of the black sedan, Felicity looked at Oliver to see what he was going to do.

He caught her eye and gave her an almost imperceptible shake of the head. He wasn't going to do anything? Seriously?

"It's just for a few hours," the mobster said with a grin. "Until my employer gets here. Then you will have a talk, captain to captain."

Oliver's eyes narrowed, but otherwise his face was its usual unreadable mask. "I doubt we need my secretary for that," he said, tipping his head toward Felicity. "Why don't we let her get back to work?"

Even though she knew it was just a tactic to make her seem less important, she bristled at his use of the word "secretary." Just wait until he spent a day with his office computer spontaneously rebooting every ten minutes.

The mobster gave another cold smile. "Oh, but my employer so likes pretty girls."

Felicity felt afraid for the first time and, as if reading her mind, Oliver took a single step closer to her.

"Now in," Stolov said. He pointed the gun more directly at Oliver. "You first."

She heard Oliver sigh and then he turned, wedging his long form into the opening. Felicity wondered how exactly they both were going to fit into such a small space.

"Would you like some help, my dear?" Stolov said, when she hesitated.

"No thank you," she said, voice a bit high-pitched. Wishing she was in a different dress, she started to climb into the trunk, and then yelped when Stolov shoved her from behind.

She crashed down into Oliver, her hand smacking him hard in the face. She was aware of Stolov touching her bare legs to shove them inside. The trunk lid descended leaving them in darkness.

"Oliver!" she exclaimed.

"Shh," he hissed.

There was a playful little tap on the metal above them and then the sound of retreating footsteps

Felicity realized that the trunk was small enough they weren't even quite lying side by side. She was partly on top of him, her back just an inch or two from the outside curve of the trunk.

Her head was pressed against his shirt front, though she couldn't quite tell where, and her legs, thanks to Stolov were tangled together and an awkward angle. And…she knew this should be the furthest thing from her mind, but he smelled really amazing.

"You okay?" he said, his voice just above a whisper.

"Uh, mostly," she said. "I just hit you in the face, didn't I?"

"Yeah," he said, sounding odd.

"Well, that's what you get for calling me your secretary," she replied. When he didn't respond she felt a tiny bit guilty. "Are you okay? I mean, I know you're alive and everything, but I didn't break your nose or something did I? Because I'm not sure I could forgive…"

"Felicity," he said, his voice holding a slight edge.

"Right, sorry," she said. "But seriously, are you…"

"I'm fine," he said, though his breathing sounded slightly off. "I just really need to move my right hand."

Suddenly realizing what he was talking about, she let out a small yelp as he moved the hand in question to a safer spot. How had she not noticed that?

He let out a long, noisy sigh that ruffled her hair and slid across her ear.

She swallowed hard. "Now what? I'm assuming you have a plan or you would have taken that guy out, gun or no."

"I do have a plan," he said. "But we need to sit tight for a minute to make sure he's gone."

Out of habit she tried to raise her head to look up at him. She felt the drag of her lipstick against his shirt and her head finally came to rest, pressed against his neck. "You are going to have lipstick all over you…" she cut off the sentence. "Well not _all_ over you; just on your shirt and your neck now, and…"

"Felicity," he said, and there was an odd tone in his voice, not quite scary, but a little dark nonetheless. "Would you please be quiet?" there was just a hint of pleading in the request.

"Yeah, sure," she said. She shifted, but every movement seemed to bring her in closer proximity to him, her knee brushing his leg, her hair catching on the stubble on his chin. It made her acutely aware of all of those feelings she'd been doing her best to tamp down.

"Okay, um," he said sounding as unsettled as she felt. Was that possible?

"Yeah?" she prompted.

"I can get us out of here, but I need to be able to reach the back panel," he said.

"You want me to move?" she said, incredulously. She squirmed a bit trying to see if it was even possible to turn over. Again, every movement brought them in closer contact.

His hand came to her waist and squeezed tightly. "Could you hold still?" he said sharply.

"I was just trying to make it so you could reach," she said, indignant.

"Just move back as far as you can," he said. Each of his words came out hard and distinct. Was he mad?

She pressed herself as far to the side as she could. Her head cleared slightly with the tiny bit of space.

"Good," he said. That space disappeared as he moved toward her, his arms snaking around her waist to reach toward the back of the trunk. "Now, if I can just find the right spot."

She couldn't help but let out a small snort of laughter.

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing," she said quickly.

His hand grazed her hip as he searched for whatever it was he was looking for. She could tell he was feeling along the panel of the trunk, presumably looking for some latch or weak point. Then his thumb slid across the skin left bare by the diamond-shaped cut out on the back of her dress. Reacting involuntarily she gasped and arched slightly in surprise.

"To hell with it," he muttered.

His arm closed around her and his head moved suddenly, his mouth crashing down on hers. For about a second she went rigid with shock, but then she molded against him, tilting her head to give him better access. The kiss was full of demand and heat, and even though she had dreamed about this a thousand times, the reality still topped the fantasy.

With a growl of frustration he yanked his head back. To her surprise his breathing was as heavy as hers. "We are not doing this here," he said firmly.

"Ok," she whispered, unable to form a full sentence.

"Tuck your head under my chin, and promise not to move," he ordered.

It wasn't a difficult order to follow. She buried her face against his shirt and enjoyed the feeling of his hands moving along her back. Finally there was a popping noise, and light and air streamed in. They managed to climb out of the trunk and when Felicity looked up at Oliver she couldn't help but grin.

"What?" he said, his eyebrows lowering.

"Bright pink," she said, reaching up to trail her fingers over the remains of her lipstick on his lips and down his shirt front. "All over."

All vestiges of his usual gloomy expression melted away and he smiled and winked at her. The sight of it was almost as powerful as the kiss had been. "I think I'll have to get used to it," he said.

Felicity Smoak never in her life imagined that a girl could be thankful she'd gotten locked in a mobster's trunk.


	4. She Was Everywhere

A/N: I wanted to do something that was "Oliver kisses Felicity on a normal day." When I started writing it, I didn't intend for anyone else to read it, so it's more a mood piece than an actual story, but here it is anyway. Oh, and don't worry, the reverse scenario "Felicity kisses Oliver on a normal day" is also on its way.

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**She Was Everywhere**

She was everywhere that day.

She was there in the take-out omelet still warm on his desk when he arrived in the morning. They'd had a terrible, vicious, night hunting down a kidnapper and the fact that she'd thought of him on three hours sleep was so generous he almost couldn't get the words of thanks out of his mouth.

She was there in the pink highlighter smiley face on his board meeting notes. Her way of letting him know she approved of his decision not to outsource the Queen Consolidated janitorial staff.

She was there in the fact that his exhausting 1:00 meeting with Finance had miraculously been rescheduled for another afternoon, allowing him to go to lunch with his mother and Thea, a commitment he'd forgotten.

She was beside him in the car as they drove to yet another meeting; there to soothe tired tempers when he and Digg would have snapped at each other.

In every minute of his day she was there, with the right folder, a quick reminder, a bit of feisty babble to make him smile when the weight of his double lives would have crushed him.

And it wasn't just during the day either. She was there giving him an excuse (not a good one, granted, neither of them had quite figured out that skill) to get out of his 7:00 pm conference call, allowing him to respond to a message from Officer Lance that the kidnapper's accomplice had been located.

She was there in the well-lit, well-ordered lines of the Foundry, in the always replenished arrows. He sharpened them yes, but he didn't even know where they came from anymore. She just took care of it.

She was there in the bow he shot; the weapon she had helped create was like his third arm.

She was there in the mask he wore. Made by another, but when he put it on all he saw was the way she had gazed at him and her voice telling him he looked "like a hero."

And as he made his way into the night, he also heard her voice; her steady presence in his ear telling him where to go, how to help, how to survive.

On that night, like a hundred before it, she was there to smile at him when he returned. There to give him someone to come back to.

She was there with a gentle touch to patch up the worst of his wounds.

He never quite knew why it was that day and that touch that changed him. But as her fingers coasted over his damaged skin he knew that he needed her there in yet another way. He wanted her in his arms, and under his hands, and in every breath that passed between them as he finally kissed her.


	5. Enough is Enough

A/N: So the last one was "Oliver kisses Felicity on a normal day." This is the flip side of that idea - "Felicity kisses Oliver on a normal day." I don't actually see this ever happening, but it amused me to think that one day Felicity would just get tired of Oliver's crap and decide to call him on it.

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**Enough is Enough**

Pull ups, again? Was he trying to kill her?

When she'd put that ludicrous piece of exercise equipment in front of her monitors Oliver had been very far away. It had been her little hopeful mental treat. Now that he was back, she'd almost come to regret it. He seemed to be spending more time at the actual Foundry lately, and he'd been especially touchy-feely. Nothing overt of course, because, you know, that would be going somewhere. Just lots of touches on the arm, shoulder, and back; lingering just a second past the point of casual and friendly.

Now the pull-ups. How was she supposed to concentrate on high-level hacking when his ridiculous shirtless torso was right in front of her nose?

Finally he let himself drop to the ground, and she forced herself to stare at the monitors as he walked toward her. She had to retype the same command three times, something she hoped he didn't notice. Blessedly she saw him grab his t-shirt from the edge of the table and slide it over his head.

Then he came to stand next to her – right next to her. So close that she could feel the heat of his body on her arm.

"How's the decryption coming?" he asked.

"Fine," she said. Her voice sounded irritated, even to herself.

"Everything alright?" he asked, obviously picking up the tone.

"Of course, sure," she said.

His eyebrows lowered and his hand came to settle on her shoulder. "You seem a little on edge. Maybe you should call it a night." Did he know his thumb had gone past the collar of her blouse to land on her skin?

She took a deep breath, and muttered, "The decryption is not my problem."

The thumb moved now, stroking gently over her collarbone. That was not a "just friends" gesture. His voice was low and quiet, "Are you okay?"

Something inside of her just snapped. She slapped her hands on the table and pushed back out of her chair. "You have got to be kidding me."

He looked stunned and turned, backing toward the other table. "Felicity?"

She stepped toward him. "You can't just keep acting like this and not do anything about it!"

Hurt flashed through his eyes and she felt a little pang of guilt at her lack of control. "Like what?"

"Oliver you touch me all the time, you stare at me, and you dangle yourself in front of my face like man candy. Then you act like there's nothing going on between us. There is only so much that I can take," she said, glaring at him.

He sighed and took another step back from her. "I told you. I can't…"

"No," she said firmly, she would not sit through another of his bizarrely hopeful and yet heartbreaking statements. "You listen this time. I get the whole angsty hero thing. The 'it's so complicated, I'm so damaged' thing - really, I do. But for once I need you to just be honest with me. Do you have feelings for me at all?"

His eyes went wide, and now he looked almost scared. "Felicity, you know I care about you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Fine, great. That's not vague, at all," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He folded his arms across his chest and glowered. How could anyone be that sexy while glaring? His voice was flat and hard as he said, "What exactly do you want from me?"

"Let's make this simple," she snapped. "Do you, Oliver Queen, have any interest in kissing me?"

The room went dead silent; he stared at her, and then glanced down at her lips. Finally he looked at his feet and said, "No."

Instead of being disappointed she felt a thrill of triumph. It was the least convincing thing he'd ever said to her, and she had a roster of ridiculous Oliver statements to compare it to. Smiling she said, "Liar."

Before he could respond, she surged forward. Going up on her toes, she pushed him against the table and laid a kiss on him. At first he was still as a statue under her lips and hands, and she worried that she'd made a mistake. Then in an instant, his right arm reached out and pinned her against him; his left hand plunging into her hair. It took only about two seconds for her to forget where she was and that she had ever been annoyed with him. For a long moment she just got lost in the feel of his shoulders under her hands, and his lips moving across hers.

Then there was the sound of a throat being cleared – very loudly- behind them. Crap. Digg, of course.

Digg's voice sounded uneasy. "Are you two sure this is…"

Unwilling to lose her momentum she pulled back only inches from Oliver and without turning said. "Go home, John."

Oliver's eyes were locked on hers, and to her delighted surprise he actually looked slightly flushed and a little amused. Not looking away from her he said. "Good night, Digg."

The last thing Felicity heard before she again got lost in Oliver Queen was John Diggle's annoyed sigh and the door shutting behind him.


	6. The Kiss Goodbye

A/N: This one is slightly evil, though our Oliver is so danged stubborn that realistically I could see it taking Felicity totally walking away to shake him out of his nonsense.

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**The Kiss Goodbye**

She'd made her choice. It was a good choice; the right one for her. If he couldn't give her what she needed than she deserved to have it with someone else. He'd tried to tell her it didn't mean leaving their work behind but she'd given him a look.

"Would you let your fiancé spend her nights with a mysterious stranger?" she asked.

Of course he wouldn't. If she were his, he wouldn't want her out of his sight.

It was a sign of how much he wanted her to stay, under any terms, that he'd actually offered to let her tell her new guy – he refused to even think the man's name - the truth about what they did, about who Oliver Queen really was.

She'd swallowed and shook her head. "He already has a problem with how close we are. It's not a good idea."

And so he was watching her walk away. Leaning against the counter, staring as she shut off the computers that he'd come to think of as hers. He hadn't changed when he'd come in, feeling like he needed the strength of the green and the weapons to get through this last moment.

When she turned the sadness in her face hit him hard. Their eyes locked and silence fell. She was waiting for him to say something, and he clenched his teeth. He had to let her do this. If she could be happy somewhere else, she deserved that chance.

Finally she looked away, swallowing audibly. "I guess that's it."

He nodded, and cleared his throat. "Thank you, for everything. I never would have gotten this far without you." A tear trailed down her smooth cheek and he folded his arms across his chest to keep from touching her.

"Don't be sweet," she said, with an edge in her voice. "Not now. I can't handle it."

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them he forced his voice to sound even. "If you ever need us, Felicity, don't hesitate for even a second."

She leaned up, obviously intending to kiss him on the cheek, as she'd done to Digg a half dozen times, but never to him. Without conscious thought he shifted the few inches it took so their lips met.

She started slightly, but then finished the kiss. It was so sweet, and he felt an almost physical pain pierce him as she pulled away.

"Goodbye, Oliver," she whispered, and before he could collect himself enough to respond she'd walked out of his life. As the door slammed shut, a fear welled up in him like nothing he'd felt since returning from the island.

She was the one who had made him feel like a hero – and now she was gone.

* * *

It took him three weeks to go after her, and cost him his first broken nose after a lucky shot by the soon to be ex-fiancé, but it was worth it.


	7. Kissing the Arrow

A/N: So my brain is weird, I originally wrote this as a much more boring version of "Oliver and Felicity kiss in the middle of a fight" but then I saw a picture online of the Arrow on the bike for the upcoming episode and the caption teased that the picture wasn't as innocuous as it seemed. My brain took a giant crazy leap at that – which inspired this. Hope I'm not updating too much, my life is about to get a lot crazier in the next couple of weeks, so I thought I'd go ahead and post while I had the time.

* * *

**"Kissing the Arrow"**

It had been one of the strangest days of Felicity Smoak's life, and given the year she'd had that was saying something. When she'd started the day she'd been wearing a bright blue dress and heels, and now that day, and maybe her life, was about to end with her dressed in green leather and a motorcycle helmet…

Six Hours Earlier

They didn't even know he was in trouble until Officer Lance called Felicity. Digg had taken the afternoon off to go to his nephew's basketball game and Felicity was holding down the fort at QC. Oliver was supposed to be at a business lunch with some investor. Instead he was getting himself kidnapped.

That was bad enough. However, the news Lance gave her was worse. "This guy who's got Queen is insisting that he'll only speak with the vigilante. So unless we want the kid back in pieces, which to me isn't the worst thing, we'll need our mutual friend to show up at the old Wellman's Factory at 8 pm tonight."

Out of pure shock she'd almost given the secret away right then. Luckily she managed to hang up the phone before she babbled out just how impossible it was for the Arrow to bargain for Oliver Queen's life.

In the hours between Lance's call and the 8 o'clock deadline, she and Digg had poured over all of the information Felicity could find on the Wellman's Factory. She'd been able to hack the factory's newly resuscitated surveillance system and determine how many men they were facing. Still, they had come to one tough conclusion. Digg could probably get in and rescue Oliver, but not if he also had to pretend to be the Arrow at the same time.

"Then I'll do it," she said, before she'd even realized what she was suggesting.

Digg gave her a hard look. "You're about fifty pounds of muscle shy and the wrong gender."

"It's the suit people recognize," she said. "Not the person in it."

"No way. Mask or no, they take one look at your face and they'll know something's up," Digg said.

"Then we don't show them my face," she said. She stood up and moved toward the display case where Oliver's suit hung. Was she really thinking about this? "I take the bike and keep the helmet on until you've taken them out."

"You can drive a motorcycle?" Digg said, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.

"Sure," she said, trying to keep the nervousness out of her face. She'd spent a summer on a moped, and while she knew it wasn't the same thing, she wasn't about to tell that to Digg.

Digg shook his head. "No way. It's too dangerous. Even if we live, Oliver would kill me for letting you do it."

That comment struck her as interesting, but she didn't have time to think about what it might mean. "Oliver might get killed if we don't. Besides, if they're looking to negotiate with the Queens they aren't likely to shoot the messenger are they?"

When she'd said that to Digg she'd been pretty confident she was right. However as she walked into the Wellman's Factory and two henchman trained their guns on her, she suddenly wasn't so sure.

The man that strode forward was well dressed, thin, and dark haired. He didn't look like the average kidnapper, not that she knew what the average kidnapper looked like. And he didn't hold her attention very long, because there, shackled to the wall, was Oliver. He looked a bit dazed, and there was a dark red stain across the front of his white shirt.

As she walked closer to the kidnapper, and to Oliver, her friend looked up, and she saw a look of utter confusion cross his face. Felicity had worn a large pair of sweats underneath the green leather, hoping it would give her a more convincing profile, but based on height alone Oliver had to know it wasn't Digg under that helmet.

She'd been careful to turn on the voice manipulator before she'd left the Foundry, and had hacked it so she could turn up the volume. That meant she could keep the helmet in place and still talk to the kidnapper as long as she kept her own voice pitched low and raspy. She tried to focus on the kidnapper and not on Oliver. "Officer Lance told me you insisted on having me make the arrangements for Queen's release."

"Yes, I did," the man said smoothly. "I thought it had a nice poetic justice. Starling City's hero coming out to save one of Starling City's worst bad boys."

"What do you want?" she said.

The kidnapper sauntered another step toward her and she fought the urge to step back. Oliver would never step back. "I need twenty million dollars transferred to an offshore account and the Queen's private jet."

"Can't you buy your own jet if you have twenty million dollars?" she said. Too late she realized that the comment was something she would say, not something Oliver would say. The kidnapper didn't seem to notice, but Oliver certainly did. His head jerked up and he looked at her with a startling mix of anger and fear. His arms yanked out in what seemed like an involuntary reaction, snapping back as they reached the end of the shackles. She had to look away from him.

"I need a ride out of town," the kidnapper said.

She took a deep breath. "Fine," she said. It was disconcerting to not recognize her own voice. "I'll relay your message to the Queen family." She hoped that it wouldn't be necessary. If they'd timed it right Digg would be here any second.

"Oh," the kidnapper said, grinning. "There's one more thing. I want to know who's behind the hood."

Felicity felt a stab of panic, but was saved from having to reply by two precise gun shots delivered courtesy of John Diggle. The two armed guards were down. Oliver took advantage of the distraction to reach out and kick the legs out from underneath the boss, who fell and hit his head on the concrete floor with a sickening thud.

"There are three more guards upstairs," Oliver said, his voice strained.

Digg nodded and took off.

Felicity yanked the helmet off her head and moved toward Oliver.

"The keys are on his belt," he ground out, nodding his head toward one of the guards.

With shaking fingers Felicity pulled off the too-big black gloves and grabbed the keys. She tried not to think too much about the fact that the man with the keys didn't seem to be breathing.

She stepped close to Oliver, "Are you alright?"

"Just get me out of these," he said.

She undid the lock on the shackles and gasped as Oliver grabbed her shoulders. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

She felt a flash of irritation. "I was thinking I would save your life."

"So you just put on my suit?" he growled. She wondered how he had enough energy to yell at her.

"Digg's done it," she shot back.

"Not without my permission," he said, wincing.

She helped him to his feet. "Sorry to invade your turf," she snapped.

To her surprise he turned and his hand came up to her face. "You think that's why I'm mad?" he said, sounding like it was the craziest thing he'd ever heard.

"You have another reason?" she said,

His voice was still hard, but there was something in his eyes that made her freeze as he said. "You could have been killed."

She swallowed. "I had to save you."

He clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes, "You are the single most aggravating…" But the rest of the sentence was lost as he grabbed her head and pulled her forward until his mouth was on hers. It wasn't a long kiss, but what it lacked in duration it made up for in intensity. His lips were forceful as they worked over hers, and when he pulled back she was gasping.

Looking up she saw an odd grin on his face. "What?" she asked, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

He let out a long sigh and threw an arm over her shoulder. As she helped him limp toward the exit he said, "Never thought I'd be kissing the Arrow."

She couldn't help but laugh a little. "Oh, well, I plan to do a lot of it. Kissing I mean, not dressing up in this thing."

"Good to know," Oliver said. "On both counts." And when she looked over at him, he was actually smiling.


	8. Some Idiot Broke Her Heart

A/N: Thanks again for all of the great thoughts and feedback on my little collection here, I never expected that people would really be interested in it. This is the last of my original "First Kiss" ideas, so it may be a while before I get another one posted. Still, if something comes to me, I'll add it! Thanks again.

* * *

**Some Idiot Broke Her Heart**

"I'm sorry, Felicity, I really do like you. But I just don't think this is working out for me."

The words carried through Oliver's open office door, and he felt the urge – not for the first time – to strangle this guy. What kind of jerk broke up with a girl at her work? He couldn't see her face, but he could guess at the expression it would have, the same one she'd had on her face when they talked about why he'd slept with Isabel. That took some of the heat out of his anger and he sighed.

He watched her sink down into her office chair, her back still toward him. She was so still, with only the occasional movement of her hand toward her face. He realized she was probably wiping away tears, and he was on his feet before he could even think about what he was doing.

She didn't look up as he stepped out the door. "Let's go to lunch," he said, trying to sound casual.

Only the tiniest redness around her eyes betrayed her emotions as she looked at him. "Why? Because you feel sorry for me?" There was more than a little anger in those words.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked toward her. "Because you're my friend and you're upset."

She didn't answer him for a moment. He felt something inside him twist painfully at the sight of another tear escaping. "Felicity," he said softly, "if you don't want to go with me that's fine, but get out of here for a while. Take a break."

"No," she said firmly. "Lunch is fine." It sounded like she was agreeing to go into battle.

Oliver made a quick call to Digg, and they stepped into the back of a car five minutes later. The drive to the restaurant he'd picked was short, and she was silent the entire time. Definitely a tip off that something was wrong, he thought.

Digg opened the door for them and as Oliver went to follow her toward the restaurant, Digg stopped him. "Is she okay?" Digg asked.

"He dumped her," Oliver said. "Right in the office, right in front of me."

Digg glared. "You want me to break his legs?"

Oliver couldn't help but grin. "Don't tempt me."

He followed Felicity into the restaurant. He'd chosen it because it was quiet and he knew his name would guarantee them a table even during the lunch hour. As they walked toward their table, Felicity looked around at the opulent décor and said, "You'd better be buying."

He gave her a half smile as he pulled out her chair. "I think I can handle it."

After the waiter took their order a heavy silence fell. Taking a deep breath he said, "You okay?"

She shrugged and swallowed hard. "As you know I've heard a version of the 'it's not you, it's me' speech twice in recent history, so not exactly." Her voice held a trace of anger, and he realized that she was talking not just about the jerk today, but about him as well.

That he was being grouped with that idiot rankled. "Hey, Felicity, I…"

"It doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head and attempting to smile. When she continued her voice was strained. "It all boils down to the same thing. Always the friend – never the girlfriend. I should just know better than to think anyone…" she cut the words off. "Never mind. Let's talk about something else."

As relieved as he was to change the subject her unfinished sentence dug into his brain.

By the time they'd eaten their lunch, the fantastic food and a lighthearted argument about whether or not they needed to upgrade the hard drives of the computers at the Foundry seemed to have brightened her mood. Still, he couldn't get the half-said comment out of his head, and he realized suddenly what she'd meant. Did she really think she wasn't lovable? Though he wasn't quite sure why, exactly, the thought was like being kicked in the ribs.

He was only half paying attention as they made their way back to the office. Then as the executive elevator climbed to the top of Queen Consolidated he reached out and hit the stop button.

"What are you doing?" she said.

He wasn't really sure. But he turned so she was between him and the back wall of the elevator. "We need to clear something up."

"What?" she said, looking nervous.

He reached down and took her hand in his, and he watched her swallow hard. "You are lovely, and warm, and a genius, and just because I am too screwed up to do anything about it doesn't make you any less amazing."

She gave him a tiny smile, and pulled her hand from his. "Oliver, that's nice of you to say, but you don't have to…"

"I'm not being nice," he said firmly, stung by her lack of belief. She had to understand this. With that thought shouting in his brain he leaned down and kissed her. It wasn't a friendly kiss either, but a kiss that had him locking his arms around her waist, pressing her back against the wall of the elevator, determined to show her just how much she mattered. And though he'd started it as a way to prove his point, it evolved into something else very quickly. She fit perfectly against him, her arms coming to wrap around his neck. After a long moment of enjoying the way her fingers threaded into his hair it took every ounce of willpower he had to pull back.

Enjoying the flushed look on her face he said, "Have I made myself clear?"

She nodded quickly.

"Good," he said. He slowly stepped away from her and carefully wiped the lipstick from his face. Straightening his jacket he hit the button to send the elevator into motion again.

"Are you ever going to do that again?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

He knew he should say no, but with the taste and feel of her still surrounding him, he couldn't manage it. As the elevator doors slid open he finally said, "I don't know."


	9. His Girl Friday

A/N: Yes, my life is crazy and I should in fact probably be doing something else. However, back when I was writing the original set of first-kiss scenarios I wanted to write a "normal date kiss" but honestly couldn't see that actually happening… then I saw a Stephen Amell interview from the PCAs…so here's hoping he was talking about Felicity and here's my take on Oliver and Felicity on a somewhat "normal" date.

* * *

_**His Girl Friday**_

"Maybe…maybe I was wrong."

Felicity had just been sliding her arms into her coat. It had been a very long night, and as she turned to look at Oliver, she saw that he had changed into regular clothes. She also could see the livid, newly stitched cut across his cheekbone, a testament to just how close he'd come, yet again, to losing his life in the streets of Starling City. Because the cut drew her eyes it took her a minute to realize just how he was looking at her, his blue eyes anxious but intense.

"Wrong about what?" she said, taking a step toward him.

He tilted his head and she saw him swallow hard, then he walked toward her. "With all the stuff that's happened in the last few weeks, I'm starting to think I had things backward."

She still wasn't quite sure what he was talking about, but she could tell this wasn't a casual conversation. "What do you mean?" she asked trying to keep her voice even. He was standing really close.

He took a sharp breath and reached out toward her. His touch was careful, gentle, as he took her hand in his, and Felicity gasped at the unexpected sweetness coming from him. She almost couldn't bear to look up at him, afraid she could be reading too much into the simple contact, but finally she raised her eyes.

There was a warmth in his gaze that she'd never seen, and she felt her breath stop. "Maybe all the uncertainty of the life that I lead," he paused, "the life that _we_ lead means that I shouldn't put things that matter on hold."

"Like what?" she asked, her voice a little shaky.

He gave her a small smile. "Like spending time with a woman I care about."

"Me?" she said. She had to be sure. As a "psycho ex-girlfriend" of his had once pointed out there were a lot of women in orbit around Oliver Queen.

He let out a short laugh, "Yes, you." His eyebrows lowered, "I don't like being without you."

Her voice came out uneven. "That's good to know."

"I'm just not sure what comes next," he said, and the uncertainty on his face was so endearing she nearly kissed him. Before she could reply he looked around at the Foundry and said, "This seems like the only place where we get to be us, and it doesn't seem like the best spot for a date."

Felicity swallowed hard at the use of the word "date." "I think…" she stopped and swallowed again, "I think that the place doesn't really matter."

He nodded and she saw something mischievous flash through his eyes. "You're right," he said. "So Friday night, 7:00? Just us, no work."

She nodded, not quite trusting herself to talk.

"Good," he said, obvious relief in his voice. Then he gestured toward the door, "Come on. I'll walk you to your car."

He held her hand all the way out, telling her about something slightly crazy that Thea had done that day. It felt easier than she had expected to just relax and enjoy his company.

When they reached her car he waited until she unlocked the door; then leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her cheek. "Goodnight," he said his voice low.

"Goodnight," she whispered. He paused just a moment, his breath still on her skin before pulling back. Giving her a grin that she had never seen before, he turned toward his bike

The next two days were an interesting experience. On the surface it seemed like little had changed. They worked side by side in the office and in the Foundry, caught up in minor crises on both the Arrow and the QC front. However, there were little moments that spoke to a shift in their relationship, like when he put both hands on her shoulders to look at something on her monitor, and his hand covering hers for the briefest minute when she brought a folder into his office. Every time it happened she nearly forgot to breathe, and she wondered how she'd survive an entire date without having a heart attack.

At exactly 5:05 on Friday, and in spite of the fact that he still had the HR Director in his office, Oliver stuck his head out his door and said. "Miss Smoak, didn't you say you had plans for this evening? I'm sure whatever you're working on can wait until Monday." His voice was totally deadpan, but she could tell he was barely suppressing a grin.

"Thank you, Mr. Queen," she said, trying to match his even tone.

The grin broke through for the briefest second before he turned back into his office. "Have a good weekend."

Two hours later she walked down the steps of the Foundry, nerves kicking up a swarm of iron-clad butterflies in her stomach. She hoped she'd worn the right thing – opting for feminine and relaxed in her rose print dress and pink cardigan. After all, there weren't really clear guidelines on what to wear on a date with your boss-best friend in a secret superhero hideout.

She didn't immediately see Oliver, but by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs he appeared through an opening in the north wall. "Hey," he said, holding up a hand. "I just need one more minute." Then he disappeared again.

She stood in the middle of the room, resisting the urge to check her monitors, just to have something to do with herself. What was he doing back there? When he reappeared a moment later there was a big smile on his face. He came directly toward her, reaching out his hand for hers.

"Sorry about that," he said as their fingers entwined. She watched his eyes sweep over her. His voice was soft as he said, "You look beautiful."

She heard her breath go fluttery. "So do you…I mean…you're gorgeous." She mentally kicked herself. He was amazing in jeans and a blue button down shirt. She took a deep breath, "I mean you look great."

His smile got wider, and he tilted his head toward the spot he'd disappeared to earlier. "Come see."

When they stepped through the small open doorway into the room beyond Felicity let out a gasp. What had once been a bleak empty room full of random pieces of machinery had been turned into a cozy looking, loft-like living room, complete with rugs, furniture, and what was possibly the largest flat screen TV she'd ever seen. The coffee table in front of the huge black leather couch was set with candles, wine glasses and silverware, with boxes of takeout from her favorite Mexican restaurant in the center.

"When did you do this?" she said, totally stunned.

He let go of her hand and walked to where a bottle of wine sat waiting at the edge of the table. "You know that emergency investor's meeting?" he said. She nodded, and he shrugged. "I made it up."

She laughed. "You lied to me…convincingly."

He grinned. "Who knew, right?" Then his face grew a bit more serious. "And I had help."

Felicity realized who that help had to be. "Digg," she said. "Did he know why?"

Oliver nodded slowly, working the cork free of the bottle. He had a rueful smile on his face and his voice was a bit strained. "We had a conversation."

"And?" she prompted, as he moved to pour the wine into the glasses.

She couldn't see Oliver's face as he said. "He made it clear he might stop by at any time tonight. You know, just to check in."

The real meaning of that made her cheeks warm, but she tried to sound calm as she said, "Did you remind him we're adults?"

"I did," Oliver said, turning to face her. His teeth were clenched and the expression on his face was a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "It did not help."

He handed her a glass of wine. "Apparently, you shouldn't underestimate your ability to elicit strong emotions from the men in your life."

She took the glass and their eyes met. The steadiness of his gaze told her that he wasn't just talking about Digg.

He cleared his throat and grabbed his own glass. "So – dinner and a movie, not exactly original, but I thought it might be nice to feel normal."

Felicity let out a little laugh. "You created an entire room, and…" She paused, taking a sip of the wine for confirmation, "Brought a bottle of wine worth more than I make in a week. I don't think you have to worry about originality."

"Good," he said, and she could tell that he'd actually been worried. She stepped toward him and put her hand on his arm. He looked down at her, "Hungry?"

She was starving actually. They sat down side by side and dug into the food, and it was a good hour later that she realized that somewhere along the w ay she'd stopped being nervous. After all, this wasn't a blind date – this was her friend. And it was so rare that they could just talk to each other, that it felt like a treat to have a conversation that didn't revolve around drug lords or marketing plans. She had never seen him smile this much before, and every time it happened, she felt a hum of contentment.

After they split a ridiculously delicious apple empanada, Oliver said, "So, movie?"

"Sure," she said. "What did you get?"

He grinned wickedly, and didn't answer her, just turning the TV on and settling back against the couch. She was surprised to see the black and white credits start up. Well, it had Cary Grant, that was promising. Then the title came up.

_His Girl Friday_.

She rolled her eyes and turned to him, her smile barely suppressed as she tried to glare. "Seriously?"

"What? I've heard it's good," he said, feigning innocence. Then the wicked grin appeared again. He put one long arm across the back of the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. She saw the invitation for what it was and turned, sinking against him, her head resting on his shoulder. The contact sent little excited sparks through her, but there was also a real comfort in the warmth of him.

About ten minutes into the movie, Cary Grant's character made a crack about the girl, "making goo-goo eyes at him for two years" and Felicity felt as well as heard Oliver's low chuckle.

She turned to give him a dirty look, but froze at the look on his face. He was staring at her in a way that made her feel like the single most important thing in his world.

"Sorry it took me awhile," he said. He brought his hand up and trailed it across her cheekbone.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the slight roughness of his fingertips against her skin. "I understand."

When she opened her eyes he was a breath away, and knowing what was coming didn't keep her from being utterly overwhelmed when he closed that small distance, his lips fitting to hers. The kiss was slow and soft, and filled with a level of tenderness that she hadn't quite expected from him. She pulled back for a moment to breathe and then she moved forward, restarting the kiss, and feeling him smile again. The sound of the movie became a distant buzz as she turned into him and his hand slid down her neck, stroking gently.

When he finally pulled away to look at her he said. "I should have done that a long time ago."

She placed a quick kiss on his jaw. "The important thing is that you did it now."

With another stunning smile, he sat back, pulling her against him. By the time the closing music of _His Girl Friday_ echoed through the basement of the abandoned steel factory, they were asleep, finally in each others arms.


	10. Everybody Made It

A/N: So here's a post-battle "we're happy to be alive kiss" and well, I realized none of my stories had featured Sara yet, and I really like Sara, so I threw her in for fun. Again, I'm having to write in a time crunch, but hopefully it's still decent enough to be fun.

* * *

**Everybody Made It or Sara's Threat**

They had all walked into this knowing they might not come out. Oliver had even risked contacting Sara, just to try and even the odds a little. Instead, he felt like he might have pulled a third friend into a fatal situation.

He was down to his last arrow. He fired, taking out yet another thug. Sara was over his shoulder somewhere, still moving, still fighting. Running forward he ripped an arrow out of a fallen man, ignoring the man's cry of pain, and whipped around to take out one of the three men Sara was trying to handle.

With that one down she managed to take out the other two attackers with couple of quick strikes of her staff. She looked up at him, gaze sharp through her mask. "How many more?"

He shook his head. "Don't know."

He heard familiar gunshots echo through the building – a single handgun, not an automatic weapon. "Digg!" Oliver called, breaking into a run. Digg was trying to guard Felicity as she attempted to hack into the building's computer system and find a way to stop the poison that was being released into Starling City's air. He hated, to his very core, that she had to be there in person, but with the whole city at stake there hadn't been much choice.

It didn't help that whoever was doing the poisoning seemed to have a damned army at his disposal.

"Where are you guys?" Oliver called out, hoping their communications were still working. He raced up a flight of stairs and swore as another four guys appeared in the stairway in front of him. He knew Sara had his back, but how long could they do this? His last two flechettes took out a couple of them, and again Sara had the other two handled before he could blink.

"Third floor! West side." Digg said and the sound of more gunfire popped in Oliver's earpiece.

"I've almost got it." It was Felicity's voice. The sound of her, even more than the news that this was almost over gave him a shot of energy and he plowed through a guard at the stairwell door, knocking the semiautomatic from his hands.

Another half dozen men charged toward them from one hallway, and Oliver growled in frustration knowing that Digg and Felicity were in the other direction.

"Go," Sara ordered, stooping to pick up the gun. She gave him a slightly evil smile. "I got this."

With only one second of hesitation, Oliver headed toward Digg and Felicity. Then out of nowhere he heard a bang and felt the shot penetrate his side. He let out a grunt of pain as it slammed him into the wall.

"Oliver!" came Felicity's panicked voice. "Are you okay?"

"Finish the job," he ground out. It hurt like hell, but he knew from past experience that was no way of gauging how injured he actually he was.

Turning he saw a man coming toward him – a man he recognized, the city's new chief of police.

"You?" Oliver said, choking out the word. He wasn't easily shocked these days, but this one threw him.

"Aren't you tired of their messes?" the chief said, pointing his gun at Oliver. "You know as well as anyone how disgusting the people of this city can be." A pager of some kind on his belt went off and he looked at it scowling. "That little friend of yours is extremely clever. But I've got a surprise for…"

There was another gunshot, and Oliver watched the blood stain spread across the man's shirt seconds before he dropped to the ground. Looking up, Oliver saw Sara at the end of the hall.

"I know you're on a kinder, gentler streak," she said sauntering toward him. "But that guy pissed me off."

"I can live with it," Oliver said quietly. He put a hand to his side and struggled to his feet.

Sara came to him and looked behind him. "Bullet went through clean, you'll probably live."

He gave her a tired smile as Felicity's voice filled his head again. "I'm in now, I just need a few more seconds," she said. "Oliver, are you there?"

He felt a wave of relief, but then his brain caught up to the last thing the police chief had said. A warning was just forming in his head when she spoke again.

"The delivery system is down," she said. "But it seems like…" There was an odd rustling sound and then a few seconds of silence. Before he could react there was the sound of an explosion and a hiss of static through his earpiece.

"Felicity!" he shouted. "Digg!" He shoved away from the wall, grateful that Sara moved to offer her shoulder as they struggled down the hallway.

As they got closer dust and smoke filled the air, and he felt a sinking dread in his stomach. What if he had just lost them both? He almost froze at the thought, and it suddenly felt hard to breath.

Then, still twenty feet away, Oliver saw them. They were both coated with dust, and Digg had a pronounced limp, but they were alive and whole.

His gaze went to Felicity, and just at that moment she looked up to see him. The smile that spread across her face made most of his pain seem like background noise and she hurried toward him. "Oliver!"

Sara dropped her mouth close to his ear. "If you don't kiss her this time I'll break your arms." She chuckled at his startled expression and stepped away.

There was a tiny flare of irritation inside of him, but he couldn't help but grin. Felicity stopped just inches from him, clearly noticing his injury. Her hand reached out to where his covered the blood soaked bullet wound. "Are you okay? I thought maybe…"

He grabbed her hand. "So did I," he said his voice rough.

She looked up at him, and in spite of the pain churning in his side, he felt an almost dizzying sense of euphoria. They had made it – all of them. He'd actually managed to get something right. And with that feeling, and Sara's words, rattling around in his head he leaned forward and kissed Felicity.

She took in a startled breath of air, but then she surged up on her toes and kissed him back. The motion set him off balance a bit and he stumbled.

"Sorry!" she blurted, reaching out to steady him. "I'm sorry…I just, when you kissed me it was like my brain stopped working and I forgot… I mean, I didn't forget, because how can I forget you've been shot and…"

"Felicity?" he said, allowing himself to lean on her a bit more.

"Yes?" she said nervously putting an arm around him.

He winced as they took steps toward the exit, Digg and Sara following just a step behind them. "I think I might need you to play doctor with me again," he said, unable to resist teasing her with the phrase she had once used to describe patching up his wounds.

She blushed, and it made him smile. "I can do that," she said.


	11. Out of His Mind

A/N: I'm certainly not the first person to take a shot at the "Oliver Says/Does Something Interesting Because He's Drugged" type of scenario, but this is what insisted on rattling around in my head this week so I thought I'd run with it. Then it sort of exploded and became this – the longest piece I've written for this collection.

* * *

**Out of His Mind**

Felicity's role in rescuing Oliver from the latest masked psycho was frustratingly simple. Sara and Digg had told her that what they really needed was eyes and ears. Once they were close enough, Felicity's job was to hack the uber-protected wireless of the warehouse laboratory, and help them make it through security. She noticed that it also put her well clear of any actual fighting, which managed to make her annoyed and grateful at the same time.

And so she sat in the back of the black town car on the docks of Starling City, madly typing and whispering through her earpiece. The unintentional side effect of all of this was that she found Oliver before they did.

As the security feed flipped images of rooms and corridors across the corner of her laptop, she caught a glimpse of a man strapped into a chair. Even though his head was slumped to his chest she recognized him immediately.

"He's on the second floor!" Felicity told Digg. "Lab number seven"

"We just need a minute," Sara replied, her tone even but with a hint of humor. Felicity heard grunts and shouts of pain in the background. Seriously, that girl knew how to kick butt.

In spite of the situation, Felicity couldn't help but smile a little as her fingers flew over the keys, pulling the image of lab seven to the center of her screen. The smile disappeared as she watched Oliver twitch and squirm as if in pain.

"Hurry," Felicity whispered, more to herself than to Digg or Sara.

"What?" Digg's voice snapped back through her ear piece.

"He's alone, but something is really wrong," she said, unable to keep the panic out of her voice.

In the image Felicity could see his lips moving. A few extra commands allowed her to engage the audio record feature of the security camera, and suddenly Oliver's voice came through her laptop speaker. The words were broken and mumbled, almost impossible to make out, but the tone of his voice made her sick to her stomach. He sounded more broken and more scared then she had ever imagined Oliver could sound.

She caught an occasional word - his sister's name, a phrase in Mandarin, and in a moment that stopped her cold, three distinct words. "Please, not Felicity."

Her throat thickened, and without even consciously realizing what she was doing her hand went to the handle of the car door. They had to get to him. Just as she was about to get out of the car, the surveillance footage showed her a welcome sight - Sara and Digg crashing through the door of the lab where Oliver sat.

"We've got him," Digg said.

It seemed like it took an eternity for them to make it from that room to where the car waited. The minute Felicity could see the trio she ran toward them. Oliver was propped between Sara and Digg. His face was ashen, but Felicity couldn't see any major injuries. However, the look on Digg's face told her that all was not well.

"What is it?" she said, shouting to Digg before she'd even reached them.

Digg shook his head as she came forward. "Some kind of drug, I think. It's really messing with his head."

"Oliver?" She wanted so badly to touch him, but felt awkward with Digg and Sara watching her.

Oliver's eyes came open, but they were unfocused. "Felicity?" he said, and there was heartbreaking confusion in his tone.

Unable to stop herself now, she raised her hand to his face. He sucked in a breath as her skin came in contact with his and he said, the words slightly slurred, "Then I didn't kill you?"

"Of course not," she said gently. She exchanged a look with Sara and Digg.

"Let's just get him out of here," Digg said, his voice full of the same worry Felicity felt.

Sara stepped back as they reached the car. "You go. We still haven't found the chief nutjob yet. I'm going to see what I can get out of the ones we left alive."

"I can't let you do that alone," Digg said, his voice sounding torn. He looked at Felicity. "Let's get you two in the car."

Felicity wanted to argue, to tell him that they needed to get Oliver some help, but she knew that Oliver would be the first person to tell them that the mission came first. She nodded and reached to shove the back door of the car farther open.

"Get in and pull," Digg told her. It wasn't the first time they'd done this.

She did as instructed, sliding into the car, hardly noticing when she knocked her laptop to the floor. Reaching up she took as much of the weight of Oliver's head and shoulders as she could, pulling him with her as she moved across the backseat. As Digg shoved his friend's legs in Oliver twitched violently and Felicity barely moved in time to avoid getting head butted. Wrapping an arm around his upper body she pushed him down, and tried not to think too hard about the fact that half of him was in her lap.

She glanced back at Digg and Sara and gulped as Digg thrust one of his guns at her. Looking up at him with panicked eyes, she took it.

"If anyone comes just point at the middle and shoot, alright?" Digg said.

She nodded, and looked between Digg and Sara. "Be careful."

Sara gave a grim smile, her eyes hard behind the Canary mask. "Not a chance." Then she disappeared into the darkness with shocking speed. With a muttered curse Digg followed behind.

Felicity carefully set the gun in the back window of the car and turned to Oliver. His eyes had closed and the twitching and muttering had started again.

"Oliver?" she said putting her hand on his face. "Oliver!"

His eyes snapped open and the twitching seemed to stop as his eyes met hers. "Still here," he said, his voice full of disbelief.

She didn't know exactly what he meant, but at least his voice sounded a fraction more normal. "Oliver, we think someone drugged you."

He nodded then, and his eyes actually seemed to focus for a brief second. "It's nightmares…nothing but nightmares, and they don't stop." His voice broke again on the last word, and Felicity felt like she was an inch from crying.

"Shhh…" she said, her fingers moving across his face. "It's okay. Everything is fine."

"I'm so sorry," he said, in a voice that came out between clenched teeth. "I'm so sorry for what I've done to you."

"You haven't done anything to me, Oliver. Whatever you saw wasn't real." She knew she should take her hand off of his face, but with the pain in his expression she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"This is real," he muttered. "And you're scared. I hate it when you're scared."

She smiled at him and did her best to force all the worry she felt out of her expression. "I'm not scared when I'm with you." As she spoke, the truth of those words made the first actual tear fall down her face – that was not helping.

He brought his hand up and wiped the tear off of her cheek. "Don't leave me," he said, and from the glaze in his eyes and the tremor in his hand she knew he was still under the influence of the drug. For all she knew he wasn't even talking to her, or even about her, anymore. Still the desperation in his voice, and her own longing cut into her.

She turned her face into his hand. "I'm right here," she said, leaning closer to him, hoping he could see her. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Why do you love me?" The words came out as an angry, desperate whisper.

She opened her mouth to dismiss the question, but couldn't do it. Suddenly it didn't matter to her who he thought he was talking to - her, his family, Shado, Sara, or hell, even Laurel. Whatever the drug had done to him she suspected that this question was an absolute reality in the life of Oliver Queen – that somehow, what had happened in his past made him feel unworthy of being loved. And she was going to answer that question, even if he didn't remember, or, what was more frightening, even if he did.

"I love you because even with demons eating you alive, you still care enough to help people," she said, reaching up to hold the hand that still hovered near her face. "I love you because you take everything head on, and because you make me smile and …" she struggled, shaking her head, "because I can't seem to stop, no matter how much you push me away." She swallowed hard, hating that another tear fell. She couldn't believe she'd said so much, it was like the drug in his system had overpowered her common sense as well.

He blinked, and the look he gave her seemed so truly like him that she froze.

"I don't want to push you away anymore," he said.

Their faces were a breath apart and afterward, she could never remember who had moved first – but their lips were pressed together, his hand tightening gently on her cheek and her hand sliding down underneath the sleeve of green leather to grasp his wrist. Whatever was wrong with him, it clearly hadn't affected his ability to kiss, and she let out a noise of protest as his head dropped back down.

"Not all nightmares, then," he said his voice rough.

The words pulled her back to her senses, and she wondered just how aware he was. Did he still think this wasn't real? Before she could ask she heard footsteps and yanked her head up, reaching for the gun. Luckily it was just Digg running back toward the car.

As he slid into the driver's seat, his voice was full of frustration. "They're all hired guns, didn't know a damned thing. How is he?"

"Digg?" Oliver said, still sounding more than a little confused. "Digg, I feel really weird."

Felicity's eyes met Digg's in the rear-view mirror. "Don't know," she said. "He seems to be a little better."

When she looked back at Oliver she saw that his eyes were closed, but this time the twitching and mumbling had stopped. In fact, if anything he looked more peaceful than she'd ever seen him. She felt an odd mix of hope and terror as she wondered what exactly he was going to recall about this night. "Let's just get him home," she said, running her fingers through his hair.

They took him back to the Foundry, and managed to wrestle him down the stairs and onto the medical table. Digg force fed him some herbs, and hooked up the blood pressure and pulse monitor. "Looks good," he said with a shrug. "All we can do now is wait." He glanced at his watch. "Maybe you should go home."

"No, I'm staying," she said. She caught his curious glance as she slid forward to reach for Oliver's hand, but ignored it, resting her head on the back of her chair.

She was half asleep when a twitch of that hand pulled her upright. "Oliver?" she said, standing beside him.

He blinked, and she watched his features change from peaceful to the carefully blank look he so often wore. It made her both sad and relieved.

"How are you feeling?" she said.

"Not great," he responded, his voice gravelly. He struggled to sit up, and used one hand to pull off the blood pressure clip and heart machine leads. Felicity was surprised when he made no effort to pull his hand from hers. Coughing he said, "What happened?"

"By the time we found you that freakshow had you tripping on some really nasty drug," Digg explained. "Physically you seem pretty okay, but…"

Felicity watched a haunted look cross Oliver's features. "Did we get him?"

"Not yet," Digg said. "Sara's on it."

Oliver nodded, and he swallowed in a way that looked painful. "Digg," he said, his voice a croak. "Could you get me some water?"

For just one moment Digg looked between Oliver and Felicity then he nodded, "Sure man."

The moment Digg had moved out of earshot, Oliver turned to her. He glanced down at their joined hands and then gave an odd roll of his shoulders, obviously uncomfortable. "So I've got a lot of crap rolling around in my head, but did I…" he paused and let out a breath. "Did I kiss you?'

"Yeah," she said. "Or I kissed you…I'm not really clear on the exact logistics of the situation, but …"

"Felicity," he said, his voice still sounding like sandpaper. There were a hundred possible meanings in the way he said her name and it made her nervous.

She pulled her hand from his and stepped back, feeling suddenly cold. "I get it, you weren't thinking clearly and you probably didn't mean any of what you said."

With obvious effort he hopped down from the table and on instinct she moved to grab him as he staggered a bit. Digg had pulled off his jacket to get the medical equipment on him, and Oliver's arm was warm under her fingers. He righted himself quickly, but instead of pulling away he held on to her, his hands gripping her shoulders.

"What you said to me," he asked looking down at her. "Was that real?"

"You mean the part about…" she hesitated, and looked down at the floor. "You caring about people, and stuff?"

"Yeah," he said. Then he let out a puff of air that was both half-a laugh and a sigh. "I guess that answers my question." He went silent then, and Felicity felt almost physically ill with embarrassment and sorrow.

"Really…we can…." her throat caught and she paused, hoping she could get out of here without crying. "We can just forget about it."

"I don't think we can," he said. His voice was thick with emotion, though she couldn't tell exactly what kind. Still it was enough to make her risk looking up at him. His eyebrows were lowered and his eyes locked onto her face, "My brain's still trying to sort out the real from the crazy, But," again he paused, but this time hope allowed her to be patient. "I don't think I said anything to you I didn't mean. Even if I never meant to say it." His hand came up from her shoulder then to touch her face.

"You said…you said, you were tired of pushing me away," she echoed. "Does that mean you're going to stop?"

He blinked and to her total amazement she saw his eyes were wet with tears. "I don't think I have a choice anymore. Tonight I saw things… kept seeing you and…" He sounded desperate again, and she realized how pale he still was, the deep circles under his eyes like bruises against his skin. "I don't think I could handle losing you."

"I'm not going anywhere," she said. "You need to rest. You're still not okay."

He nodded and let her gently push him back until he sat on the medical table. Digg came into the room and handed Oliver a glass of water. Oliver drank it greedily and handed back the empty glass. "I don't suppose…"

"You know," Digg said, sounding irritated, but there was a teasing look in his eye, "you could just tell me you need a minute to talk to Felicity."

"I need another glass of water," Oliver said firmly, but then he reached out and took her hand in his. "And my next conversation with Felicity is going to take more than a minute, so it might have to wait until we've caught this guy." He turned to look at her, and the depth of emotion in his eyes made her take a breath. "If that's okay with you?"

"I can wait," she said. "The mission comes first."

Oliver's face broke into a wide smile, and as Digg moved to go get the previously mentioned glass of water, Oliver pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear. "And that's part of why I love you."


End file.
